


The Light, The Sea, The Two Men

by dimethief



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: 20s or 60s, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Needs A Hug, Haunted Island, How Do I Tag, Isolated life, Lighthouses, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Murder Mystery, No beta we die like men or women, Period-Typical Homophobia, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Wade Wilson, Psychological Horror, Scarred Wade Wilson, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow-ish burn, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, Thriller, time doesn't matter really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29899743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimethief/pseuds/dimethief
Summary: Peter Parker was desperate for money and he took a job that nobody wanted - working at the lighthouse for six months. The mysterious lighthouse keeper Wade Wilson only brought more puzzles to Peter's life. And what happened in these six months wasn't something Peter was ready for at all.There was one thing that Peter knew: something was hiding in the corner where the light never shone upon, and it was watching, waiting, wailing, and calling his name. And Wade said, "lastly but the most importantly, one shall never let the light die."
Relationships: Harry Osborn/Peter Parker (Past and only mentioned), Nathan Summers/Wade Wilson (past), Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Where Everything Began

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic where I was inspired by the mystery of The Vanishing of the Flannan Isles Lighthouse Keepers, and also the horror movie The Lighthouse. Scarred Wade working in a lighthouse reminds me of the novel, Notre-Dame de Paris. So combining these three things I got myself this fic LOL.
> 
> English is not my first language, but I try my best. 
> 
> I hope you guys like it. This is the first chapter and I hope this will bring some freshness to you guys XD.

Peter Parker was practically new to this place. Frankly, he’s not really sure why he decided to stop his journey at this distant small village on the shore. It’s noon, but the sky was gloomy and grey, which reflected the hollow darkness into the bottomless ocean. The cloud was heavy, hanging upon his head like a decaying cotton. The air smelled like a saggy towel that had been stored in a moldy basement for more than a month - disgustingly wet. The ocean breathed, her surface rising and falling with unnerving strength. The frightening waves became the echo of wailing souls that she kept under her arms for centuries. Peter wondered how people survived in such environment, though he himself was in a boat right now, clinging to the edge, fearing for his life.

Peter clutched his old, washed up coat tightly, shoulders slumped, almost wanted to bury his face under his thin coat. The sharp cold wind sneaked under his coat while the freezing sea water splashed all over the boat. He darted his gaze between the shaking old boat and the wild wave, and he couldn’t place his concern on the fragile boat or the seemingly strong waves. 

“You ain’t know much about the water, huh?” 

The question from the sailor who’s sitting before Peter startled Peter. He then shook his head, keeping himself steady enough not to fall over the boat or be swept by the endless waves. “No, not really. I wasn’t expecting to be accepted by this job.” He practically screamed. It’s hard to get his young voice to be heard through the wailing wind on the sea.

The sailor didn’t turn around but kept his focus on paddling the boat. Peter waited for a reply that seemed to take forever. Meanwhile, he only got even more nervous about what's going to happen. He stopped at this village, only to make some money to survive. He wasn’t a wealthy type at this moment, and some couple of coins surely could do him a favor. He came for some work to do and here he was on his way to the Lighthouse, working as a lighthouse keeper.

“No one wants to work there. They are desperate enough to hire an inexperienced outsider. What a shame.” The sailor finally spoke up, pulled Peter’s attention back.

Peter couldn’t tell if that’s an insult to him or the commission that hired him. He kept his gaze on the back of the sailor, and out of curiosity he asked, “I was told I wouldn’t be working there alone. There’s a man who works full time at the lightho-“

“Wade.” The sailor cut through Peter’s words. 

“S-sorry, what?” asked Peter, completely caught off guard by the name dropping.

“Wade Wilson.” The sailor repeated, only adding the family name to it, but there was some strange tone under the way he spoke, almost sounded… disgusted.

Peter frowned, wanted to ask more but what caught his attention was the sea suddenly became much more quiet. The savage waves turned into a gentle hand caressing the boat like a loving mother. The mist, however, only got heavier. Without seeing anything that is further than 50 feet made the calmness eerie. Peter bit down his lower lip, holding his breath as if there were predators who were hiding behind the mist waiting the good time to jump on him. 

The only sound he could hear was the water paddled from the sailor. And it was so quiet that Peter had a feeling he entered another world. If a minute ago he was in a howling chaotic world, right now he had entered a transcendent world, but only was it even more unsettling than the former one.

“There. The lighthouse.” The sailor pointed at somewhere.

Peter followed the direction where the sailor told him, only finding a yellow warm light shone through the pale mist. The light was weak, not the typical blinding light you would see from a lighthouse. And Peter only assumed it was because of the thick mist.

It took them about ten more minutes to reach the port. Peter jumped on the port deck and he was only welcomed by the creaking sound of the wooden floor indicating how poorly it was taken care. He threw his bag over his shoulder, waiting for the sailor to come with him.

The sailor lifted his gaze to Peter, and then gave him a sigh. “I ain’t going there, kid. You follow the path, and it will get you to the lighthouse.”

Frowning, Peter asked, “why?”

The sailor seemed tired as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Look, you’re a young kid, but I assume you are not dumb. Why do you think you’re hired? Because no one wants to take this job. The last man who worked here killed himself, and Wade… is insane.” The sailor paused for a second, and then looked back at Peter. “Just do your job. Six months later, take your money and leave.” The sailor shifted uncomfortably, gripping the paddle tight. 

“I…” Peter suddenly felt like he perhaps made a mistake to accept this job. Everything he just heard sounded like a big red flag. The regrets of arriving here started to grow bigger with a hint of fear.

“You will be fine.” The sailor assured him but with a shaky voice right before he took off.

Peter watched the boat disappear in the mist, as the taste of regret reached the tip of his tongue. He sighed, and then turned around following the path toward the lighthouse - his life of next six months, hopefully six months.

***

Peter rang the bell, several times, but nobody answered. He stepped back, standing in the front yard of the small house that was located near the lighthouse. The house was surprisingly well taken cared. The roof looked like it was newly painted and the porch looked clean. Two chairs were placed on the porch alone with an old mailbox and some plants on the window box. It’s a simple house painted white and dark green on the roof, long and seemingly big enough for two bedrooms.

Peter ran his hand over his brown hair and tilted his head looking up to the lighthouse standing tall hundreds feet away from the house. The lighthouse was purely white, shining the warm light through the thick mist weakly. Peter blinked at the dim light that’s barely spotted among the mist, wondering how ships would be able to see them.

“You the new one?” 

The sudden deep voice coming behind Peter made him jump a bit. He turned around, facing the owner of the voice, and it only made him even more startled.

The man was taller than him, bulky as well. A dark brown old jacket was on top of a white wrinkled shirt, and in between there was a caramel colored leather vest. The man really seemed like an ordinary person only if Peter could ignore the hideous scars all over his skin. There wasn’t any smooth skin as much as Peter could see at this point. The exposed skin was uneven with the rough texture and somewhere between pink and fleshy nude. There was no hair or brows, only a pair of shockingly blue eyes that were staring at Peter.

The man clicked his tongue, seemingly knowing Peter was in shock about his appearance. “I’m Wade Wilson, the lighthouse keeper.” He glanced at Peter as he walked past him, straight to the house. “Come in whenever you’re ready.”

The slamming door pulled Peter out of his shock. He closed his mouth that was dropped open before, turned around and quickly ran to the door. He felt his cheeks heat up out of embarrassment. He should never had such rude reaction towards that man, and due to his early fine education from his home tutor he’s truly ashamed of him being so ill-mannered.

Peter entered the house and soon he was welcomed by a strong smell of burning firewood. His gaze was attracted by the warm fireplace and he quickly spotted Wade sitting on the chair reading the newspaper next to it. Peter took a deep breath and walked up to Wade who did not mind Peter’s presence at all.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I was-“

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.” Wade interrupted and then he put down the newspaper on his lap, looking up. “You’re Peter Parker, right?”

Peter nodded, but he’s not sure if he should look at Wade or just look away. Suddenly feeling not sure how he should act to not offend the other man, Peter felt his cheeks heat up again but this time it’s out of panicking.

“You can just look at me.” Wade gave a faint smile, assuring Peter. He then motioned the chair across from him. “Sit. Make yourself comfortable here.” 

Peter sat himself down, wrapped his arms around his bag before his chest, slightly alarmed but still tried his best not to show it. He was cautious. The old sailor’s words still lingered inside his head - “ _ Wade… is insane _ ”. Although he could not bring himself to face the ugly side of his prejudge, who wouldn’t be cautious around a scarred man?

There was an intense silence falling upon them, where the crackle of the fireplace was the only thing that could be heard. Wade was looking at Peter, the shorter and skinny brown-haired man, with an expressionless face. He was reading Peter, and Peter could tell. Peter shifted a bit, swallowed uncomfortably. He thought that someone had to break the silence before he actually fainted under the other’s intimidating gaze. And lucky enough, Wade decided not to torture this poor young man anymore, so he grinned wide and slapped his lap.

“Oh, how rude am I. I’m sure being stared isn’t something so comfortable, right, Mr. Parker?” Wade looked almost innocent with such payback. He folded the newspaper neatly, as he continued, “who am I kidding? I know the best. And for you, Mr. Parker...”

“Peter.”

“Sorry?”

“Just call me Peter, Mr. Wilson.” 

Peter wiped some damp hair that was stuck to his forehead as he clarified his statement. He gave the other sitting man a polite smile. And Peter would be lying if he said he did not enjoy the little surprised face that Wade gave. Wade wanted to be a boss, then Peter determined that he better be a nice one. A little game never scared Peter.

Wade clicked his tongue, perking an invisible brow at Peter. “Of course, Peter. And you shall call me Wade then. That would be only fair. Now, now, now, let’s skip the boring introduction, we can fill that part in at any time in these six months.” Wade paused only to lick his scarred lips, wetting them. “Do you know anything about lighthouses?”

“No, not really. In fact, I just came across this place and I was looking for work to do. I didn’t grow up anywhere close to the sea, so if anything I be eager to learn. And I promise you, I’m a quick learner.”

Wade did not reply for a while but muttered something under his breath. He then sighed and leaned forward. “That’s fine. You can work as my assistant while I teach you one thing or two. It won’t be hard, but I have one demand.”

“..yes?”

“You do as I say.” Lowly and slowly, Wade stated, “it’s only for your own good.”

That, that demand could be understood in many ways but Peter nodded nonetheless. “I can do that.” After all, he did not know much about working at the lighthouse, so it’s only logical to follow Wade’s order, right?

“Ok, good.” Wade leaned back, clasped his hands together, as he looked at Peter with a small smile. “There are some absolute rules that shall never be broken. Even if I tell you to do something that might break them, you do not.”

Peter frowned, seemingly being confused about what Wade just said. “But didn’t you tell me to do what you say?”

“Oh, yes. That, that is important, but these rules are above it.” Wade laughed for the first time ever since he met Peter. “I could make bad decisions… I mean, everyone does. That’s the nature of us, isn’t it? I do plan the worst scenario before everything goes on fire. You have no need to worry as long as you follow these three rules.”

To be fair, Wade’s explanation did not help at all. Peter was only more confused than ever.

“First of all, one shall never leave the house after the dark.”

Peter nodded.

“Secondly, one shall never leave the house when the storm comes.”

Peter nodded.

“Lastly but the most importantly, one shall never let the light die.”

Peter hesitated for a second before he realized Wade was talking about the light from the lighthouse, and then he nodded. “They all sound reasonable.” Peter commented.

“Rules don’t come from nothing, Peter.” Wade replied softly as he turned his gaze to the fireplace, before he fell back into silence.

The fireplace upon this wintry night glowed with radiant gold flame, bringing a golden hue on Wade’s face. And Peter tilted his head to the side, and soon his breath was halted by a pair of eyes. 

Wade had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. They had a thousand hues of blue and a small touch of golden caramel reflecting the burning flame. And Peter wondered how such beauty grew from a monstrous man who could be presented as the definition of ugliness.

And maybe, Peter thought, maybe it’s the warm yellow light that brought out the crystal-like blue out of Wade’s eyes.

  
  



	2. First day of work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's first day of work. Just a day, and it's already too much for him at the end of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally forgot to add the tag slowburn. It's not that slow, but still... 
> 
> This chapter is fun! I tried not to add too much supernatural elements in this chapter because it was only chapter 2... But hey, I had fun! I hope you guys would like it!  
> Comments and kudos are all appreciated!! And if you are confused about some part about this chapter, please let me know. I wanted to try to drop some hint, but I dont know if I'm good at it. Well, I have no beta for this fic, but if you are willing to be my beta reader, I would be so grateful!!

_ 10.19th Monday  _

_ It took them almost 3 months to find a new guy to fill your position, though I expected anytime longer but how miraculous that was. A young outsider. Outsider. You should see his face when he first saw me. You would be laughing and amused. God, I miss your laughters. I suppose there is no need to haze the new one, not like what I had done to you. The mist has only grown heavier today, and the light failed to reach out. No ships have ever passed by. It’s a dead land now. What is the point? I’m only doing this for you, so please bless this place. Send peace down here, this hell hole. And soon when the light be forgotten, when the storm be welcomed, I shall join you. _

  
  
  


Peter couldn’t sleep.

The first night was pure anguish where he tossed around on the bed with wide-open eyes. The house was resting in silence. Wade had gone to the lighthouse to watch over, leaving Peter alone in the house. Peter was in good manner, where he had some bread and went to his room once the sun went down.

When the night deepened, Peter slipped under the blanket feeling ever so restless. He would watch the clock tick-tocking in the dark. Sometimes he would dart his gaze over the window, watching the moon shining onto the dark sea. 

The mist had gone, embracing a beautiful contrast between the purely white moon and the menacingly dark sea. The moon brought a breath of peace to the sea, almost waveless like a quiet lake. Peter thought of when he just left the shore of the village, the waves were maniacal; but when they were close to this small rocky island, the waves just… stopped - they were minimized at last - and it was like he stepped into another world. It was intriguing, but soon it was left behind Peter’s mind.

Peter probably had not had much sleep. He woke up by the knock on his door, and when he sat up he realized he did not remember when he fell asleep. He rubbed his eyes and unconsciously looked over the window, finding the mist was back this morning. 

He entered the living room after his quick shower, and soon he was attracted by the two plates on the small dining table. It was simple - a slice of bread and some beans. And across from the plate with food there was an empty plate, and Peter could only assume that Wade had already finished his breakfast. 

It did not take more than five minutes for Peter to finish his breakfast. He washed both plates quickly before he finally could have a full view of this house. There was everything you need for a simple life, but nothing for a comfortable life. There were chairs, but no couches; there was light but it was only one dusty oil lamp. There was no kitchen but cooking pans and pots were stacked by the fireplace. To say it’s a house to live, Peter would prefer to consider it more like a house for surviving. 

A sound of door closing startled Peter. He turned around seeing Wade who just walked out of his room and looked at him as well.

“Good morning, Wade.”

“Morning, Peter.”

Wade stopped by the dining table, looking at Peter with a question look. “Come with me. We have some work to do today,” demanded Wade.

“Y-yes!” 

Peter squared his shoulder, looking like a soldier who’s ready for the war. Wade sighed, rubbing his forehead, as Peter followed him.

The mist was back, and today it seemed even thicker. Everything further than 20 feet was not visible. It’s wet. It’s blurry. It’s milky. However, it’s peaceful and calm. Peter inhaled the salty air, feeling the chill running through his vein. It’s cold, but refreshing at the same time.

“Watch where you step,” said Wade, suddenly.

Peter sped up, trying to keep up with Wade. “What do you mean?”

Wade gave Peter a quick glance and then turned his gaze back to the small path they were walking. “We are on a tiny island. It’s so small you could circle the whole island in 40 minutes. And with this heavy mist, you don’t know if you are feets away from a cliff. One slip, then the sea would be your last destination.”

Peter nodded, looking down at the path. It’s slightly muddy, soft, with few grasses trying to survive on it. And it’s clear to Peter that the path was made by walking constantly everyday.

“If you are lost, which I hope never happens, find the path and follow it. It will eventually get you to somewhere safe,” said Wade. 

Few more minutes and they arrived at the lighthouse. It was hidden in mist. The only part that Peter now could see was the door. A couple of stairs led to the door. Wade pushed the metal sliding door, embraced whatever behind it. 

The rusted stairs winded upwards in a spiral shape into the pulse of the light. Peter tilted his head, squinted his eyes, and he looked at the light. The light was blinding shiny, even from hundreds feet down here Peter almost couldn’t look straight to it. The blackened staircase swirled upwards reaching the light, as if it’s being sucked into the light, a never-end path, coiled into the light nonstop.

“Peter.”

Gasping, Peter suddenly woke up from his mind. He looked over his shoulder, seeing Wade looking at him with a frown.

“I’m sorry. I was just… amazed by the light.” Peter blinked, seeing some ultraviolet light flood in his vision. He then closed his eyes and rubbed them.

Wade watched him in silence for a few seconds and then started unpack his bag. “Don’t stare at it. You will be blind if you stare at it long enough.” Wade warned Peter as he took out a bottle and a brush. “Now, lube the rail of the sliding door.”

Peter didn’t say anything but blinked again, making sure his vision came back to normal, and then he accepted the brush and started working.

Wade sat on the stair, lit up a cigarette. He watched Peter brushing through every little part of the rail with a stony face. Then he put off the cigarette and walked up to Peter. He stood behind Peter. His larger and scarred hand covered Peter’s hand, guiding Peter’s hand to the left.

“You missed here.”

Peter flinched as soon as he felt the warm but rough texture, but he didn’t move away, and instead he just tilted his head to look at Wade, met the other’s gaze. At first, Wade thought Peter was looking at his skin, but then he realized he was only looking at his eyes. He could feel Peter’s soft skin under his hand, he could tell Peter wasn’t trying to move away. It was almost like a hint but without actual direction to point at. 

For a moment, Wade just stood there and forgot to breath. However, a familiar sense of dread slowly creeped under Wade’s skin, crawled up to his neck, and eventually it turned into a heavy sigh. A sigh that woke Wade up, which pulled Wade back away from Peter.

Wade stumbled back. He reached into his pocket, searching for a pack of cigarettes. When he finally took out one, with his slightly shaky hands, he found there was no cigarette left in the pack. He cursed under his breath.

“Look, I will be right back. I-I just need to get my cigarette.” Wade left his words before he rushed out of the lighthouse. 

Peter watched the scarred man disappear into the mist. He then looked down at his hand that was held by Wade moments ago. The other hand touched it carefully. The tip of his index finger caressed over his palm ghostly, as he tried to recall the weird feeling of Wade’s hand. It was rough yet soft at the same time. The mixture of uneven surface with harsh scars and soft newly grown flesh made a really weird texture. It’s the kind that Peter had never felt before. It wasn’t soft like a girl, neither like a hand from a hardworking guy. However this wasn’t what troubled Peter more, instead it was those eyes. They were the type of blue where Peter would imagine what the sea would look like. The sea should’ve had infinite blue, whispering the soft blue lullaby that spoke so well to the soul, the soul-reaching blue.

Looking up, Peter stared into the mist with a grimace. It wasn’t anything close to the reality. The sea here was only dark and cold. It was either savage or dreadful. Then what was the blue of Wade’s eyes?

  
  


***

  
  


Wade finally felt calm after he finished his second cigarettes after he returned home. He stood at the porch, hands in the pocket, looking at the chair that he was just sitting on. Then he turned his gaze to the other chair that was placed right next to it. He stared into that chair, as if there were someone sitting on it.

It was at this moment, Wade felt the breath behind his neck again. It was a sigh that sent a chill right to Wade’s spine. It froze his blood and his mind, making the world around him stop. He could tell there was something behind him, few inches from him. Wade opened his mouth, and there was only one word slipping out of his throat.

“Please…” Wade begged, body trembling in fear and anguish. He shut his eyes close, shaking his head nonstop. If he could think right now, he would think the thing behind was probably laughing at him being such a coward. He had always been a coward in his life, and he knew it. It was only when there was someone who had always pulled him out of shit, but right now that someone wasn’t here anymore.

But, maybe there was hope?

_ “Wade.” _

That’s when Wade’s blood went cold. He heard it, loud and clear. The voice was like a spell that pulled him out of his fear; his body wasn’t trembling anymore, but his heart only started beating even faster.

_ “Wade.” _

The voice called him again. Wade’s eyes shot open. He turned to his right, and he saw it. A man walked on the path, blended in the mist. It was barely visible but Wade caught the glimpse of the man. And he knew he couldn’t be wrong about that, ever. 

Wade dashed into the mist, followed the barely noticeable humanoid form. 

“Wait-” Wade called out, panting. His heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest. His eyes are locked on the man. He chased and chased, until the faint shadow eventually immersed into one figure that was getting closer and clearer.

Wade reached a hand out, but soon he stopped sharply when he finally saw the figure standing in front of him.

“Wade?” Peter stood there, in front of the lighthouse, looking at Wade with a brow perked up.

It was Peter Parker, not the one in Wade’s mind. Wade took his arm back, trying his best not to show the disappointment that just hit him hard. Wade cleared his throat, adjusted his jacket. “Are you done with the work?” asked Wade.

Peter nodded. “Yes. You want to check it?”

Wade waved the suggestion off. He lit up a cigarette, and took a puff. Then he said, “put them tools back and bring my bag. We are heading back.” 

Wade took another puff, watching Peter rush back and pack. He saw Peter putting everything back in his bag and then Peter turned around and gave him a thumb-up with the first smile that Wade had seen since Peter arrived. It was his first time to see Peter smile. The smile was almost still innocent like a kid, a pinch of youth and a hint of sincere warmth. Wade asked himself: when was the last time someone actually smiled like this to him? Well, the last time someone smiled like this at him he was helplessly in love with that person.

The smile caught Wade’s attention. It captured every little attention from Wade so much that Wade did not even notice the shadow standing right there in the lighthouse. Peter shut the door close behind him, catching Wade’s staring.

“Oh, fuck!” Wade let out a painful groan as he felt the cigarette burn his fingers. He cursed more under his breath, only to mask the embarrassment of being caught staring. 

Peter chuckled. He walked up to Wade and asked, “you ok?”

Wade huffed and shovelled both his hands into his pocket. “Let’s go.” He stated simply, avoiding what just happened seconds ago.

Peter shrugged before he followed Wade back home.

After they returned home, Peter was assigned for more work. But they were really just some chores like cleaning the fireplace and washing the cooking utensils. And when it was close to dusk, Wade came out of his room from a long nap.

“Here is the assistant work logbook. From now on, you are going to write down your work performance and anything that was notable. It’s simple, but if you still have any trouble to figure out what you should write, just read what former workers have written there. Take them as an example.” Wade placed a log book before Peter. “I’m heading to the lighthouse now. You will be fine tonight, right?” asked Wade.

“I will be fine,” answered Peter, and he waved at Wade with a small smile.

Wade looked at him for a moment, not sure what to say, so he eventually just left the house. He wanted to make it to the lighthouse before the sun was gone.

Peter then puts his attention back to the log. He flipped it open, finding half of the logbook has already been written.

**_August 1st._ **

**_10:30 A.M._ ** _ The arrival of Mrs. Summers and her two children. _

**_11:15 A.M._ ** _ After collecting Mr. Summers’s belongings, they departed. Wind N.E. light, weather cloudy.  _

**_10:37 P.M._ ** _ Weather clear, wind shifted to the S.E., very light. _ ****

**_Keeper_ ** _ Wade Willson _

**_Assistant Keeper_ **

Peter lifted a brow. Mr. Summers… Peter wondered if that’s the man who killed himself, or maybe that's the man who worked as an assistant keeper before he. He turned the page back more, looking for the answer.

**_June 12th._ **

**_07:30 A.M._ ** _ Weather clear, wind S.E, strong. _

**_09:07 A.M._ ** _ Weather heavily cloudy, wind S.E, very strong. _

**_09:48 A.M._ ** _ Thunder storm. _ ****

**_04:15 P.M._ ** _ Thunder storm stopped. Weather clear. East dock was destroyed. _

**_11:00 P.M._ ** _ Weather clear. No ships have passed today. _

**_Keeper_ ** _ Nathan Summers _

**_Assistant Keeper_ ** _ Wade Willson _

Peter pinched his lips. Nathan Summers was the man who killed himself. Peter thought he was replacing the dead man’s job, but in reality he was replacing Wade’s job. Just months ago, was Wade sleeping on the same bed that he’s sleeping on right now? Peter thought that Wade must be really good at his job so he could be promoted.

Browsing through more pages, Peter started to figure the whole log was written by Wade. The handwriting had always been the same, and even after the former keeper was dead and Wade was no longer an assistant, Wade still continued to write on this assistant work logbook. This was Wade’s logbook, and now it’s Peter’s.

Then, something striked Peter. He licked his fingers before quickly flipping the logbook. He needed to find something. 

**_July 19th._ **

**_08:30 A.M._ ** _ The “Old Julie” signaled for permission to board. Weather clear, wind N.E, medium. _

**_09:17 A.M._ ** _ Two sailors arrived at the West dock with the lifeboat. They claimed they work for Mr. Westmier, the merchant and the captain. They proposed a trade for a large amount of wood planks. Mr. Summers suggested otherwise, claiming we don’t have enough planks. _

**_11:32 A.M._ ** _ The “Old Julie” departed. _

**_01:00 P.M._ ** _ Weather clear, wind S.W, light. _

**_Keeper_ ** _ Nathan Summers _

**_Assistant Keeper_ ** _ Wade Wilson _

**_July 22nd._ **

**_10:30 A.M._ ** _ Weather cloudy, wind N.E, light. _

**_10:30 P.M._ ** _ Weather clear. _

**_Keeper_ ** _ Wade Willson _

**_Assistant Keeper_ **

Peter frowned. There were two days missing between these logs. They were supposedly the time when Nathan died which meant it’s also when Wade was promoted. He looked closer, and between the two pages, the binding of the logbook, he found there was a clear sign that someone had ripped a page out of this logbook. And this was Wade’s logbook.

Peter slammed the logbook close as if something horrible just scared him. He took a deep breath, looking down at the logbook again. He stared at the dark green cover, thumb caressing over the uneven but soft leather cover. It almost felt like Wade’s skin, rough but with some level of softness. It’s odd, but quite soothing. Peter liked it.

A heavy sigh slipped out of Peter’s throat. He left the logbook on the table, and put off the fireplace. He decided that he’s not going to write anything in his logbook tonight. 

The night was darkened. The moon was hidden behind those heavy clouds. The only light that was gifted to this dark world was from the lighthouse where Wade was. Peter faced the window, watching the light beam from the lighthouse brightened the world every 2 seconds. Every two seconds, he had a brief moment to see a faint view of the sea, and then it fell back to an endless void. 

The clock was still ticking. The bed was still uncomfortable. And Peter was still wide-awake. However, tonight Peter’s mind was running wild like an uncaged savage. 

He thought about when Wade was sleeping in this room, was he sleeping on the same sheet? He thought of today when they were inappropriately close to each other, the way Wade stepped back like he was terrified. Was Wade disgusted by him? Did Wade figure something out? Was he stepped out of the line earlier today? 

Peter started at the window, sighing. It wasn’t like he’s trying to seduce Wade. It’s just he had not been so close to a man since… he was 16 years old. And Wade was surprisingly nice to be close to. Wade was big and tall, and when Wade came close and held his hand Peter could almost feel his heart skip a beat. Peter threw a hand cover his eyes, totally ashamed. Maybe it’s just because he had not slept with any men for 6 years. 

“Get it together, Peter Parker.” Peter warned himself quietly, while his hand reached down to his underwear, massaging his groin and then slowly stroking his hard member.

The night was way too quiet. Peter’s panting and low groan sounded loud, and he had tried his best to hold back. However when the climax came, Peter let out a hitched whine helplessly. And when he fell back down to the bed, he still felt restless. His body was hot and sweaty, and the sticky warm cum leaked out of his cock was only making everything extra uncomfortable.

The aftertaste of orgasm was bitter. The emptiness and the shameful accusations hit Peter at the same time. Was this his life now? Masturbate to his boss, the scarred man who was called “insane”. Working on an isolated island just to make some money to feed himself. No home, no parents. Just him and the scarred man who ironically turned him on for no damn reasons.

“Jesus fucking christ, Peter…” Peter cursed as he choked out a cry. The tears rolled down on his cheeks, shameful and pathetic tears.

Tonight, Peter still couldn’t sleep.

  
  
  



End file.
